


Little Talks

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [53]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, brothers being brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: Cody steals a warm moment with his favorite little brother.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex
Series: Soft Wars [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 53
Kudos: 658





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> Toot Toot, everyone on the 'Projie is still recovering from Sea in Storm' train! Fluff and humor inbound! Like. An avalanche of it. The palate cleansing is gonna be more like a scrub good lord.
> 
> Ft The Return of The Kot
> 
> Inspired by [this post](https://sheapunk89.tumblr.com/post/615953254270091264/so-soft)

“… and then he jumped out the fourth story fresher window,” Cody continues. “Still in the robe-dress, hotly pursued by a foot-tall amorous quillpig and clutching an entire plate of the little vegetable pies. The pies made it back to the ship, by the way. The dress didn’t. And we had to make Waxer leave the pig.”

Rex cackles, tears beading at the corner of his eyes. He wears happy well, Cody’s little brother. He’s meant for it. Cody knows his own smile is warm, and maybe a bit indulgent.

“And,” Rex chokes. “And the boots?”

Cody promptly preens. “Rescued ‘em. GAR-purchased property, it would have been _fiscally irresponsible_ to let him throw them away. Saving them for a special occasion.”

“He’s going to _murder_ you when he finds out and you will deserve it.”

“Rex’ika. Vod’ika1. If you saw his _calves_ in those?” Hiccuping for breath, Rex balls up his polishing rag and pitches it overhand and hard at Cody’s head. Cody ducks, laughing, and catches the bottle of polish Rex had followed up with right in the chest. “I’m a simple man,” he protests. “With simple wants. If he wears the boots while he murders me I think I could accept it.”

“ _Animal_ ,” Rex accuses, and he’s not really wrong is he? Still, little brothers can’t be allowed to get away with _everything_. It makes them cocky.

Cody fires the polish right back and bounces it off his arm. “This from the man whose children eat fruit snacks off the ground?” he challenges. “Bly had some commentary after your last joint engagement.”

“ _Metaphorically_!” Rex yelps and nearly flails himself off his chair batting away the steady rain of cleaning and repair gear Cody patiently tosses at him. “ _Metaphorically_ would eat fruit snacks off the ground. And you _know_ Bly is all bucket, no head, _why_ are you listening to him?!” He catches a grit pick and pointedly sets it to the side, staring Cody down as if was far too Adult for Such Shenanigans. As if he hadn’t started it. Cody sends him his best impression of Rex’s own cheeky grin.

He can _see_ when Rex mentally talks himself out of sticking his tongue out. It makes Cody unreasonably gleeful. Deliberately, Rex turns to scratching debris out of the grooves under the edge of his neck piece. “I’d be _happy_ if Ahsoka started eating fruit snacks off the ground,” he grouses. “Maybe then I could get a karking vitamin down her gullet.”

Cody tries to go for commiserating, but the look Rex shoots him says he missed. “She caught on to the ‘veggies in ground meat patties’ thing?”

Rex heaves a full-bodied sigh. “Two _glorious_ months of Kix not rapid-fire igniting my comms,” he reminisces with the air of a man four times his age. “Those were the golden days.”

“Kot2,” Cody intones. The face Rex makes to _that_ is the final round in the mag: Cody loses it. He only barely avoids clanging his head on his own bucket as he nearly folds in half with laughter. Rex’s pissy look misses actual heat to sell it as genuine and he does a poor job stifling his smile.

He’ll gripe about Ahsoka and plant foods while painstakingly cutting her a stencil in the shape of a jumpscare. He’ll groan about how difficult it is to cram Anakin into a shell while researching some obscure martial art that Anakin mentioned interest in all of once.

He’ll complain, but only to Cody and only in private. To the galaxy, Rex is the gauntlet you have to run to even stand a chance of touching his people.

He’s so _proud_ of them. All of them, his Jedi, his officers, his troopers. Rex has touched every one of their lives and their successes make him glow. Cody can relate. Rex might have been the greatest thing he’s ever done.

Cody can only hope that he’ll be the kind of ‘alor3 to all their brothers that Rex has become to Torrent.

Cody pulls his eyes back to his own waiting gear on the table between them. Rex passes him the grit pick as he finishes with it and Cody calms enough that he won’t send the point through his own thumb.

“Try not to stab yourself again,” Rex feels it entirely necessary to add. Cody wordlessly waves the pick threateningly in his direction. He doesn’t bother to look afraid, the brat. Cody applies himself to picking fine sand out of the grooves around his visor. He keeps his gear clean, but it isn’t often he gets the time to give it a good detailing.

They don’t get this often either, moments with just the two of them. Cody viciously defends the times when they come. There’s not a man in Ghost who would knock on Cody’s door right now for anything less than Grievous imminently inbound. Cody has seen one of Rex’s officers cut one of the 501st boys off as he approached. He thinks Rex may have given very similar orders.

The work is fiddly but repetitive, and Cody finds himself working by rote, his eyes drifting again to his little brother. Happiness looks good on him, but so does confidence. Competence. Cody would have to work to knock him off his feet now, and he’s much better at hiding his prickliness. He’s grown up.

Still a bit of a polycotton-fluff-headed nerd though. Cody won’t let anything force that to change.

Their eyes meet. “What?” Rex asks, and raises an eyebrow. It’s funny: Cody recognizes that from Obi-Wan. Which means Rex picked it up from Anakin. “Something on my face?”

“Yes,” Cody replies without hesitation. “But modern medicine hasn’t figured out what to do about it yet.”

Rex nails him precisely in the forehead with a roll of fine sandpaper.

Cody retaliates with a tube of sealant.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Little Brother. Back  
> 2\. Strength. If this is your first time dabbling in this little universe of mine, know that this is an in-joke that started [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407009). Back  
> 3\. Chief, Head. In context: Clan Head. Back  
> 
> 
> AKA why we should never, ever trust Rex's opinion of himself. (GOD SEA IN STORM IS STILL PAINING ME GAH MORE FLUFF STAT)


End file.
